Gone
by thatTWWgirl
Summary: Josh has never dealt well with losing people.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey all, I've moved this to it's own little story. (If you don't know me otherwise, well... Here is a thing.)**

**Disclaimer: Blah blah I own nothing I am the lowest of the low blah blah**

**Rating: M**

**Reviews: Oh sure :)**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

"Hey, look." He sighs, leaning back against his desk. A hand habitually runs through his hair, his eyes downcast. "I'm going to have to stay here tonight."

She smiles sadly, reaching out to adjust his collar and tie. "I know."

"Believe me, I don't want to, it's just-"

"I know." She says simply. She takes a deep breath. "Any word on the bomber's identification?"

"No."

"Is the president considering any targets?" Her eyes dart to his nervously, and he sighs.

"Donna, I can't-"

"No, no. Of course." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry."

His eyes are sad and tired. "I wish I could tell you, but there isn't much you can know before the press do."

"It's okay." She lifts his chin with her fingers. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah."

"Josh." Her eyes search his intensely.

"I'm hanging in there." He glances down so that she won't see the haunted look in his eyes.

She stares at him a moment longer. "Okay. Make sure you're eating."

A slight smile graces his lips. "Yeah."

"Don't look at me like that, I know you don't eat when you're stressed."

"No, it's just kind of funny... You're practically as responsible for national security as I am." He grabs her hands, as she manages a small grin.

"Now isn't that a scary thought."

He nods in agreement, gazing down at her fingers laced with his, the engagement ring which still almost surprises him. "You should go home. Get some sleep."

"I can stay if you want me to." She offers easily.

"I... No. No, go home. I'll see you in the morning." He leans forward to kiss her cheek.

She releases his hands, and for a moment he feels the loss, until her hands are on either side of his face. "You do good."

He gives a small smile. "Don't I always?"

"Yeah."

He pulls her close to him. Tonight of all nights, he doesn't want to let her go. "I love you."

"I love you too."

She pulls him in for a kiss, and they're both startled by the knock on the door. Donna turns to look at him one last time before leaving. "Bye."

"Bye." He watches her exit to hallway, his chest aching slightly. "Come in." He calls.

Margaret enters. "They need you back in the sit room, Josh. They may have a link to the bombers identity."

He sighs, standing slowly. "Okay. I'm coming."

Margaret shifts uncertainly. "Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been watching the news, but they aren't saying what was bombed. Only that there were American casualties."

His gaze drops to the floor again, and his fists clench of their own accord.

"It was a van, Margaret. They hit a van, which flipped, and everyone inside was killed."

His stomach is turning as news camera footage replays in his head. He sees bloodied bandages on a hospital floor, Donna's lifeless form on an operating table.

Tonight was going to be hell.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxxx

"Donna, you on your way out?" Sam looks up from his desk as Donna strides through the bullpen.

She pauses, coming back to lean against his doorframe. "Yeah, I'm headed home to get some sleep."

He nods understandingly. "Josh is still in the sit room?"

"Probably all night."

"Ah. Well I'm glad you'll be able to get some rest."

"We'll see." She says skeptically.

"I'll make sure he's okay, Donna."

She smiles slightly, glad Josh has a friend like Sam to be here when she can't. It was the only thing that kept her sane, sometimes. "Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it."

"No problem. Have a good night." He grins at her, despite his tired eyes.

"You too." She starts to leave. "Don't let him do anything stupid!" She calls over her shoulder.

"No promises!"

With a smile firmly in place, she heads past security feeling better than she had before. Stepping out into the cool night air, she takes a deep breath. Josh would be fine - and she needed the rest.

Her heels click as she makes her way to the gate, drawing her coat around herself. She wishes they'd driven in this morning - she would've taken the car had she known she'd be walking home alone. She wonders vaguely how Josh would react when he realized what she was doing. She likes to think he wouldn't send an _entire_ fleet of secret service agents to check on her.

The thought makes her laugh slightly, and she quickens her pace.

Out of the corner of her eye, she's sure she sees a shadow moving, but it's gone just as quickly. She turns onto the street that would lead her most of the way home.

She pauses, thinking she hears footsteps behind her, but when she turns, the sidewalk is empty and silent. Ominous.

She shakes her head. She was being ridiculous.

Half a block away from their street, she's sure that the sound has resumed. When she turns, she looks back to see if anyone is behind her.

When no one appears, she continues on her way. _No, wait. There it was again_. She turns slightly, and her heart nearly stops when she sees the dark figure behind her.

Gasping, she attempts to run, but her heels catch and tumble off her feet. She feels someone's weight on her back, their arms around her body.

The last thing she sees, is the dark pavement rushing up to greet her.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Nathaniel, I need a favor."

"I'm not smuggling you red bull again, Josh. Not after last time." He leans against the wall outside the sit room, where he's stationed.

Josh laughs distractedly. "No, look, it's nothing like that. It's just, I hadn't realized earlier that Donna would be walking home alone."

"Have you called her?"

"She's not picking up."

"She's probably sleeping."

"I know, I just.." He trails off, his eyes haunted.

Nathaniel sighs. "You're not going to be able to focus until you receive confirmation, are you?"

He grimaces apologetically. "It's a possibility."

"And so you'd like me to go pound on your door at 2:00 in the morning?"

"...Would you mind?"

Nathaniel looks at the worry in his eyes, and can't seem to refuse. "No, it's okay. I'll go check on her."

Josh claps his shoulder. "Thanks, man." He runs back into the sit room, his face slightly more relaxed.

"Just doing my civic duty..." Nathaniel grumbles, though he's not really angry. He worried about Donna, too.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Are you saying that this type of explosive connects the bombers to the Sudanese government?" The president waits expectantly, standing above the speaker phone.

"No, sir." The voice comes a moment later. "This specific combination of materials was recently used by a group of Sudanese officials attempting a coup de tat. It is not confirmed that the SPLA are involved, though we know that the perpetrators are no longer in connection with the government."

"And what are they doing blowing up our ambassador's van?"

"...I don't know, sir."

Matt sighs. Finally a break through, and he's still hearing those words. "Thank you, Liz." He hangs up and glances around at his advisors. "Any theories?"

"We do support Sudan's current government - if you can call it that - perhaps it was simply a statement demanding the withdrawal of our support." The chairman of the joint chiefs states the obvious.

"No, I don't think that's it." Nancy McNally turns to face the president. "Sir, I think that if that's the message they were trying to send, they would've acted against Sudan's bigger allies already - many of whom have officials present who are much more accessible than our ambassador was."

Matt nods. "Either of you could be right."

"But the first answer is too easy." Josh supplies, and Matt continues nodding. "Not to mention the fact that they would've claimed the attack by now."

"You're right - that's the part that unsettles me."

"Sir?" A young NSC agent looks up from his phone. "I have a call from the French embassy in Sudan. They're reporting mobs outside both their embassy and ours."

Matt looks up with anxiety evident on his face. "Put them on."

The agent presses the speaker button and gives the President a nod.

"Hello, this is the President of the United States speaking."

"Yes, sir, it's an honor." A tremulous voice fills the room. "Deputy embassy manager George Annet speaking, sir."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"They're taking the embassy, sir." The slightly accented voice on the other end of the phone begins to break.

"Are you sure? Have you followed emergency procedures?"

George's voice sounds breathy, as though he might be on the verge of tears. "It's no use, sir. They're taking the embassy."

Josh curses under his breath, but Matt's focus doesn't waver. "What about the Americans? Can they help you?"

"They're already overrun, Mr. President." George is crying in earnest now. "They're through the gates, sir, they're through the gates."

The sound of shouting is growing slowly louder in the background, and Matt leans forward desperately. "Stay on the line, George."

The roar is now nearly covering George's voice. "Yes, sir, I'll try, I have to-"

The line falls abruptly silent, and the occupants of the sit room stare at each other in shock.

After a moment, Matt breaks the silence. "God damn it!" He slams his hand down on the table, and several people jump.

Nathaniel bursts through the door, panting, completely oblivious to what he's just interrupted. Josh looks up in alarm.

"Agent, what do you think you're doing?" Nancy demands, having been startled by the Nathaniel's entrance. "This is the situation room. You knock. We could be discussing vital and top secret matters of state, and-"

"Nancy, it's okay." Matt is looking between Josh and his agent. "What is it, Nathaniel?"

His hand clutches his chest in an attempt to steady his breath. "Sir, I - Josh-"

Josh hurries to his side, laying a hand on his shoulder. He turns back to Matt. "Sir?"

"Go."

Josh leads Nathaniel outside, his grip on his shoulder growing painfully tight. "What is it?"

Nathaniel's breath has slowed slightly, and he looks into Josh's eyes with desperation. "It's Donna."

"What about her?" Josh demands.

"She's gone."

Josh can't seem to stop himself from backing Nathaniel into the wall, his grip twisting his shirt. "What do you mean, she's gone?"

"She wasn't at your apartment, I knocked for minutes." He gasps a couple times. "I ran down the street, and..." He can't seem to bring himself to go on, shoving Josh away from him.

"And?" Josh prompts desperately.

Nathaniel looks at the man before him, who is now breathing heavier than he, and his face reflects nothing but desperation. "Her purse was on the ground, Josh. And her shoes."

"Her shoes?"

"There were other signs of a struggle."

"Such as?"

Nathaniel's voice drops to a whisper. "Blood."

Josh's face drains of color, and he turns his back to his agent, beginning to pace wildly. "What happened?" He demands.

"We don't know yet if it's her blood or someone else's, it could offer some clues into-"

"_What happened_?" He's shouting now, his pacing erratic.

"I don't know, Josh!" Nathaniel shouts back.

"Well, figure it out!" Josh yells.

Realizing where they are, Nathaniel reaches out placatingly. "Josh, this is the Secret Service. We've shut down DC, we've got agents all over the city, we're working to-"

Matt peers around the door, having heard shouting. "Guys, what's going on?"

"Mr. President." Nathaniel composes himself. "Sir, we have a situation."

"Another one?" Matt jokes, but looking between them, his expression quickly sobers. "What is it?"

Josh runs a hand through his hair, his eyes scanning the carpet. "It's Donna, sir."

"Donna Moss?"

Josh's silence confirms it.

Nathaniel steps forward. "She's missing, Mr. President."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"No. No, you must have the message wrong." Sam stares at the agent in front of him disbelievingly. "I don't understand."

"Donna Moss _has_ been abducted, Mr. Seaborn, I'm very sorry."

Sam stares at him blankly. "By whom?"

"We don't know, we have no identification. We aren't sure whether or not it's related to her position in the White House or if it was a random occurrence."

Sam feels his pulse quicken. "Josh."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Seaborn?" The agent watches him in confusion as he stands swiftly, grabbing his suit coat.

"What do you know about Josh?"

"...He's in the situation room, sir." The man replies, perplexed.

"Is he okay? Is he managing?" Sam barrels down the hallway, the agent in tow.

Finally the man understands, and reaches up to touch his headpiece. "I need a status on Harvard."

Sam doesn't stop to wait for the reply, rushing toward the stairs.

"I have a report that Mr. Lyman appeared distraught earlier but is now refusing to leave the situation room."

"Right." Sam breathes. "What can you tell me about Donna?"

"Ms. Moss was apparently abducted on the corner of her street, with evidence of a struggle at the scene. There is as of yet no identification of her abductors, and her whereabouts are unknown. We've shut down the greater DC area, and there are investigative authorities at the scene. There's an APB out."

Sam's chest constricts. He'd seen her not two hours ago. "Is she injured?"

"I can't confirm that at the moment."

He takes a deep breath, coming to a halt a few feet down the hall from the situation room. "I need to call my wife. She'll want to know about this."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Hi, you must be Nathaniel." The blue-eyed man offers a charming smile and a handshake. "I'm Sam Seaborn, Josh's Deputy."

"It's nice to meet you." Nathaniel accepts his handshake. "I'm here to meet with Mr. Lyman about his protection?"

Sam's eyes become shifty. "Yes, you are. Fair warning, he's a little uneasy about the whole thing."

Nathaniel offers a smile - this Lyman guy wasn't the first. "I'm sure I'll be able to handle it."

Sam shrugs. "If you say so." He gestures toward the office behind them. "He's having lunch with Donna right now, but you can probably go in."

"Right." Nathaniel strides toward the office, wondering if he's expected to know who Donna is.

Josh looks up at the knock on his door. "Come in."

Nathaniel enters the room to find the infamous Josh Lyman sitting on the floor - of his own office. A blonde woman occupies his desk chair, picking at a salad with her feet up.

"Hi." The blonde says cheerfully - he assumes this is Donna.

"Hey, you must be that guy from Secret Service." Josh stands with some difficulty, having been sprawled unceremoniously on the carpet. "How's it going?"

Nathaniel moves forward to shake his hand. "Very well, sir. I'm Nathaniel Rivers, and I'm the head of your detail."

Josh sighs dramatically. "Yeah, wonderful." He stretches distractedly. "I'm sure you're wondering why I was sitting on the floor of my own office."

Donna looks up dryly. "That's funny, I hadn't heard him ask."

Josh waves a hand dismissively. "The answer to your unspoken query, Nathaniel, is that though this is _my_ office, the lovely Donnatella Moss has staked claim to the only piece of furniture within the room."

Nathaniel knows that this comment isn't really intended for him, and tries to look impartial.

"Actually, Nathaniel, his version of events is entirely biased." Donna glares up at Josh. "You see, Josh's chair is comfortable, and mine is not. Don't you think it's only chivalrous for him to let me sit here for the only thirty minutes of the day in which I have access to it?"

"Uhh..."

"And _furthermore_-" Donna proceeds, causing Josh to groan. "-he could simply walk ten feet into the office and grab another chair."

"I've told you, Donna, there's a better solution." He offers a boyish grin. "Just sit on my lap."

Now Nathaniel's lost. Were they dating, or was the guy just a pervert?

"Do you think you're comfortable? Because you're not."

"Because I'm so buff?"

"_Not_ to mention the fact that you have a glass office wall! Do you really want your staff to see me on your lap?"

"Better than seeing me on the floor."

"If you'd just go grab a chair-"

"Excuse me." Nathaniel interrupts loudly. _God, what was wrong with these people_? "It is my understanding that we have a limited amount of time."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxxXx

"Josh, you aren't making sense!"

"You're not making sense!" It's a childish remark, but he's long since lost the restraint that would keep him form hurling it at Arnie Vinick. "Do you really think I care about inconvenience?"

Arnie sighs. "I know you don't, but hundreds of citizens might." Josh opens his mouth, but he raises a hand. "We have no idea if the abduction is state related. Closing the airports is an overreaction."

Josh's voice reaches that upper octave that everyone dreads. "An overreaction?"

Arnie realizes his mistake. "No, I just mean... Look, Josh. It could very well be just some thug off the street. In which case, shutting down the airports would be of no use."

He looks up stubbornly, only to see that Josh has turned away from him at the phrase 'some thug.'

Matt sighs from the end of the table. While he was content to let Arnie be the bad guy, he can't sit idly by much longer. "Gentlemen. We can't do this."

Nancy stands up. "The president is right - while I'm worried as well, this _isn't_ a situation room level situation."

Arnie sighs. She couldn't be more right - they'd been making little progress on Sudan, but it'd been halted completely when Josh had discovered the extent of the secret Service's definition of 'shut down.'

"Josh?" He calls. The man is breathing heavily, facing a corner of the room.

"Josh." Matt says softly. "Josh, no one would blame you if you were to sit this one out."

Josh scrubs a hand over his face, turning back abruptly. "No, Mr. President. I'm fine."

The other occupants of situation room glance at each other nervously. Until Matt ordered him out, Josh had the right to stay.

"Okay." Nancy resumes her seat. "Let's work."

At this moment, the same agent who'd taken George's call lifts his head. "Mr. President, I think you'll want to hear this."

"Yes, Michael?"

Michael pauses. "They're speaking Arabic, but I can translate."

"Then by all means, Michael." Matt says almost exasperatedly.

When Michael patches through the call, a harsh voice echoes through the room. It's disconcerting until Michael begins to translate.

"You will remove your peacekeeping forces from Sudan... We will seize the capital... We have already taken the embassy... The capital was ours from the birth.. No, I'm sorry, the beginning." Michael winces - he was a little rusty. "It is our right as the Sudanese people, and we will not be stopped."

A silence fills the room as both the speaker and the translation finish.

Matt blinks at his advisors. "May I ask who is making these demands?"

Michael pauses, listening to the man on the other end. "You cannot refuse... The Sudanese People's Liberation Army. You will release our leaders from your prisons, you will..."

"The SPLA. We're familiar." Nancy mutters.

"And what exactly makes you think that the United States will negotiate with terrorists?" Matt's voice is strong, and it becomes clear that someone is translating rapidly on the other end of the phone as well.

Michael resumes his own translation. "You cannot refuse... We have it."

Matt's brow furrows. "Have wha-"

"No, I'm sorry sir. He said her. We have her." he nods, sure he's gotten it right this time.

"They have... her?" The president's eyes shoot to Josh, as do many other's. His chief of staff is standing stock still, all color gone from his face.

"Yes, sir." Michael nods. "We have her in our possession."

"Who?" Josh demands loudly. "They have who?"

"Listen to the council... Of Josh Lyman, Mr. President." The line clicks dead, and Michael translates the last phrase. "Accept his advice as your action."

In the silence that follows, everyone's eyes find Josh. He stares blankly at the tabletop, his eyes very nearly dead.

_We have her. We have her in our possession_.

"What do you want to do, Mr. President?" Nancy asks.

"Shutdown the airports, the train stations. Mobilize local and state forces. I want no stone unturned." the occupants of the room immediately begin making calls, the secret service agents posted near the door speak into their earpieces in low, hushed tones.

"We'll find her, Josh." Matt tries to send a meaningful glance at his Chief of Staff through the sudden flurry of activity, but Josh doesn't look up.

_We have her. We have her in our possession_.

"Sir, is there a message you'd like to send to the SPLA?"

Matt's gaze hardens. His voice is quiet, but it echoes clearly through the chamber.

"We don't negotiate with terrorists."

_We have her. We have her in our possession_.

Before anyone can stop him, Josh is out the door.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

**Alright, guys, worth continuing? I know it's a little over dramatic and I ended with a cliffhanger, but what'd you think?**

**Also, side note: if you're wondering where my love of Josh shoving people into walls began, it was the Claypool deposition.**

**That _may_ have been the only scene in which he did it, but ya know, I'm still citing it as evidence for every time I have him shove someone into a wall.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **

_***Imagine Dulé Hill's voice* Previously, on The West Wing. Or, uhh, not The West Wing. Just this crazy fan's collection of tributes.**_

**[Oh look, I got my disclaimer in there too.]**

_**"Mr. President." Nathaniel composes himself. "Sir, we have a situation."**_

_**"Another one?" Matt jokes, but looking between them, his expression quickly sobers. "What is it?"**_

_**Josh runs a hand through his hair, his eyes scanning the carpet. "It's Donna, sir."**_

_**"Donna Moss?"**_

_**Josh's silence confirms it.**_

_**Nathaniel steps forward. "She's missing, Mr. President."**_

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Yeah, umm... Can I talk to you out here, Nathaniel?"

Nathaniel tilts his head quizzically. "Yeah, sure."

He looks over to see that Donna, too, looks curious. "Oh _fine_, I'll just have lunch by myself."

Josh smiles slightly. "I'll be right back."

"Have fun."

"Yeah."

Josh leads his new agent through the transition office aimlessly, finally opening a door to an empty balcony. "Here, this'll work."

"Is there something confidential you need to speak to me about, Mr. Lyman?"

"What?" Josh laughs distractedly. "Oh, no. Not really. I mean, confidential from my girlfriend, sure."

Their bickering made a bit more sense now.

"Umm, okay. What is it?"

The man in front of him sighs, looking out over the skyline. He runs one hand through his hair. "Never thought I'd be important enough for this, you know."

"This is standard procedure, Mr. Lyman. As deputy chief of staff you were under a more general protection program, but now you're under a more personalized-"

"Yeah, I know. I know. It all just feels pretty surreal, you know? Like, there was this time I turned down an NSC card because I wanted to be on level with my staff, and now... How can I look them in the eye? I've read the stuff, I've got drivers, I've got a personal team, I have stations outside my apartment..."

"It's all regulation, sir."

"Yeah. But, I'm sorry, this just isn't really my thing. I don't like to place myself above other people, you know. Knowing that in the event of... An... You know... I'd be safe, and they wouldn't. As if I'm worth more or something."

"You're very important to the administration, Mr. Lyman."

"Yeah... Yeah. Look, the thing is, the thing I wanted to talk to you about, is... Look, Donna Moss, the woman you met, she doesn't get secret service protection."

"...not specifically, no."

"But the thing is, in the event of some attack or something, she's just as likely to be standing next to me as anyone."

"...Yes, sir?"

"And I... I know this isn't really allowed, but... I know I'm your number one priority and all that shit, but..."

"Mr. Lyman, are you asking me to replace you as my number one priority with your girlfriend?"

"Well..."

"That is absolutely against our regulations, sir."

Josh returns his gaze stubbornly. "I know. I know that. That's not what I'm asking. But I'm telling you, she's _my_ number one priority."

"I'm sure she is, sir, but-"

"I know you can't do anything about your instructions. But you're my agent, and I'm saying... The moment you guarantee my safety, I want you to guarantee hers. Or you get someone else do it. You don't protect me without protecting her, too. Please."

Nathaniel looks at the man before him, poorly concealing desperation in his voice. He thinks of his wife, Courtney. Slowly, he nods. "Mr. Lyman, I'll... I'll see what I can do."

"I know that sometimes you extend protection to families, and I just... She's all I've got."

Nathaniel can't seem to fight his bizarre inclination to place a hand on the man's shoulder. "I understand, sir."

"Thank you... Looks like we shouldn't have any problems with each other, then." Finally, he offers a boyish grin. "And you can call me Josh."

"That's also against regulation."

"God, live a little, Nathaniel."

Josh leads him back through the transition office, seemingly at ease now. Donna looks up as they re-enter the office, and walks around the desk.

"Hey, I've gotta take off. I have a meeting on the hill."

Josh grins. "So I can have my chair back?"

She rolls her eyes. "I'll miss you too, my love."

"I mean sure, I'll miss you, but I'll be much more _comfortable_ whilst missing you in that nice, leather, reclining chair..."

She smacks the back of his head. "I'll have Sam confiscate it, don't think I won't."

"I'm just kidding." He wraps his arms around her, seemingly comfortable with the fact that his secret service agent is only a few feet behind them. "My heart will ache with the pains of longing until we next meet."

Donna smiles. "Too much, Josh."

"Ah-Kay. I'll see you after work."

"Alright." She closes her eyes and leans in to kiss him, and Nathaniel averts his eyes.

_...Okay, wrap it up. Any time, now._

"Josh, let go of me. You have glass walls." Donna pulls away, laughing. She smiles at Nathaniel on her way out the door. "Nice to meet you, Nathaniel."

"You too, Ms. Moss."

As the door shuts behind her, Nathaniel turns back to Josh.

"So, Mr. Lyman, it was good to meet you, and I'll keep in mind what we discussed. I'll be officially assigned to you next week, immediately after the inauguration. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, that'll do. I think we'll work well, Nathaniel." He flashes him another grin. "Oh, hey, can you supply me red bull... or is that not a part of your job?"

_God, did he really have a task ahead of him._

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Have you seen Josh?"

"No."

Sam continues down the hallway, increasingly desperate. "Have you seen Josh?"

"You've already asked me."

"Sorry."

A little further down, he bumps into Nathaniel... Literally, the two frantic men collide.

"Have you seen Josh?" Nathaniel beats him to the bunch.

"No, have you?" Sam curses himself mentally. "No, of course you haven't... Sorry."

"That's okay, Mr. Seaborn. I take it you've heard the news?"

"That one of my best friends has been taken hostage by a terrorist group, and the other has disappeared in distress?" Sam's stomach churns as he says it. He wants to curl up in a ball, sob.

"I'm so sorry, Sam..."

"I am too. You know them well, Nathaniel."

"Yeah, we've... Grown close." He says distractedly. "But still... No idea where he's gone."

Sam thinks about how his long standing friendship with Josh might benefit him here... What does he know of Josh that others might not? "Wait here... I've got an idea."

Sam hurries upstairs to the bullpen. All the lights are off, as it's going on 3 am. He creeps through quietly, listening for noise. Nothing. He walks into his assistant's cubicle, searching the darkness with his poorly adjusted eyes...

"Hey, Sam."

"Ah!" Sam startles, almost comically. Peering around for the source of the noise, he finds Josh sitting cross-legged under Bonnie's desk. "Josh! I found you."

He tries to sound pissed, but mostly he's just relieved.

"You found me." Josh says, voice devoid of all emotion.

Sam settles onto the floor near him, leaning against the filing cabinet. "You're hiding under Donna's old desk."

"Yeah."

"God, people have been looking everywhere for you."

"You know, it's funny." Josh's face doesn't reflect that anything about the situation is comical. "I used to hide here, sometimes. I know it's immature. But if a congressman showed up that I really didn't want to see, if CJ was pissed at me... Or one time, even, I just really didn't want to talk to Amy. Donna used to call me a baby, but, ya know, she played along."

Josh laughs softly, his eyes dull. Sam watches him silently, his chest aching.

"Any way, I'd sit under here like some sort of toddler, in my suit and everything, and she'd sit up there trying to ignore me. But I mean, it was kind of hard for me to ignore her, what with the view, her wearing a skirt and whatnot."

Sam gives him the barest of smiles. "So it was like _The Breakfast Club_, and you were Judd Nelson, and she was Molly Ringwald?"

"Yeah. Sure. But anyway, this time Franklin was outside my office, I was trying to make a big show of standing him up, you know, cause of the firearms bill and everything... And I started messing with Donna, you know, I was bored. She kept trying to ignore me or smack me or something, but she couldn't be too obvious. Until finally, she got really fed up and just kicked me."

"She kicked you?"

"Yeah. And from under the desk, I started shouting. Apparently I swore a lot, or so she tells me. Either way, Franklin comes marching around her desk, and Donna stands up, trying not too laugh, and he just looks down at me sprawled under her desk like a four year old, and the look on his face was _priceless_."

Sam manages to laugh, forgetting for a moment their situation. "That's hilarious. Did you get his vote?"

"Yeah. Probably because he thought I was nuts."

"But Donna kicked you back in line."

Josh gives him half a smile. "Always does."

And then it settles on them. Why they're here. What's happening.

"Josh, we should head back downstairs. People are worried about you." Sam says quietly.

"Sam, what if I lose her?"

Sam turns his gaze to his best friend, and just then he looks very, very young. Not in the boyish way, as per usual... but like a sad, lost child. His eyes are huge, and he exudes desperation. Sam has trouble fighting back tears.

"Josh, don't... Don't think like that."

Josh looks away from him. "Two years. Just two fucking years. Couldn't have gotten my act together sooner than that? God... It's not enough Sam, it's not..."

"Josh, stop it."

"I'm just saying-"

"Two years since you got together, yeah, I know. But you've had a lot more time together than that... Years together, years that you loved each other. It's not like that counts for nothing."

"Now _you're_ thinking like that, Sam."

"Josh. Please. You've gotta stay focused. We're doing all we can... But they're going to need you. She'll need you, Josh."

His next sentence is barely audible. "...She's all I've got, Sam."

Sam drags his sleeve across his eyes, trying to hide the fact that he's crying. He'd never seen Josh look so... Broken.

"You've got _me_."

Josh looks up at him, and the sight of his best friend's face wet with tears shakes something within him. Painfully, he begins to draw himself back together. "Yeah. Okay."

Sam stands and offers him a hand, pulling him into a hug. "It'll be okay, Josh. Don't give up."

Josh hopes he's not crushing his friend, but he can't really help it. "No. Not yet."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Where's Josh?" Nathaniel's panicked voice is the first thing they hear on their way downstairs.

"Right here, Nathaniel, I found him. He's okay." Sam says reassuringly as they reach the White House basement.

"Josh!" Nathaniel runs up to him, distraught.

Josh takes in the look on his face, and his heart drops into his stomach. "Nathaniel, what happened? It's not- She hasn't-"

He can't choke out any more, but thankfully his agent understands his meaning. "No, Josh, no. It's okay. She's... alright."

"Okay. Okay." He lets out the breath he'd been holding. "What is it, then?"

"They want you in the video conference center."

"Why?"

"They've requested... The SPLA wants..."

"What, Nathaniel?"

"They want to _show_ you something."

The tone of his voice sends shivers down Josh's spine.

"And you think that's a good idea?" Sam says incredulously, placing a hand on Josh's shoulder.

"I tried to tell them it wasn't, I tried, but..." Nathaniel looks desperate. "They're making some very serious threats."

"_What kind of threats_?" Josh says in a strangled voice.

"I don't think I should tell you that right now, Josh." He says, eyes anywhere but on Josh.

For once, Josh doesn't really want to argue. "Okay... Okay."

"The President will be with you the entire time, as will Nancy, myself-"

"Sam?" Josh asks hopefully.

"Yes, if you want him."

"Yeah."

"Okay. It'll be okay, Josh. It'll be okay."

"Don't say that." Josh says distractedly.

"Why?"

"You'll jinx it." Sam supplies with a bitter nostalgia. "You'll tempt the wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Nathaniel leads him into the room with a hand on his shoulder, and Sam follows nervously. The President and Nancy McNally sit on either side of the long conference table, and Josh is seated at the head of the table, a few mere feet from the screen; the size of a large television.

"Josh, listen. The call is supposed to come through any minute now. Look, you don't have to say anything. You don't have to do anything. You just have to sit there." Matt says tensely. Josh doesn't even look at him.

"What you see may be distressing. It may be disturbing." Nancy says bluntly. "But all they want is to know that you've seen it. We will be here to deal with the falling out. I'm going to have to ask that you do nothing to escalate the situation, Josh, no matter what they show you. Do you understand?"

Josh continues to stare at the screen, unresponsive.

"Josh? Josh, answer me-"

Just then, the screen lights up, and the speaker on the table begins buzzing.

After a moment of surprise, Matt reaches out grimly and punches the answer button.

Everyone in the room responds with some form of physical shock, either jumping back or gasping loudly. Josh feels his heart stop and his entire body goes cold. He doesn't move a muscle. He doesn't think he can.

There, in a bare, seemingly concrete room, is Donna Moss.

She sits limply on a metal folding chair, the only thing visible in the camera's view. He can only see the top half of her body, but that's enough.

He thinks he might be crying.

There's a cut, and surrounding bruise, on one of her cheeks. The side of her head is stiff with what he prays to god isn't dried blood. Another bruise takes up her left shoulder, starkly visible against her "alabaster" skin, as she'd so proudly referred to it.

She's stripped to what he hopes had been the undershirt she'd been wearing under her clothes. The thought of them touching her at all, stripping her of her clothes, of her defenses... He feels sick to his stomach.

She's shivering. He wonders if she's cold, or just frightened. Her mouth is covered with black fabric, tied behind her head.

And her eyes. God, her eyes... They look hollow, void._ Already dead_, he tries and fails not to think.

He starts to shake uncontrollably.

"Can she... can she see me?"

His question is answered when a gloved hand reaches across the screen, most likely pushing a button. When the arm has vanished, Donna's eyes widen, and her face comes to life.

She attempts to choke out something but fails, the first sound to come through the speaker being her strangled cry. Tears spill over her cheeks, and her entire body quakes.

Josh can't stop himself from leaning forward. "No, shh... Donna, it's okay... It's going to..._ It's going to be okay_." He chokes out, his expression like the one he'd worn when she'd woken up from her last operation in Germany. His eyes are soft, broken. "Please, no, don't cry... I'm... _here_."

What a ridiculous thing to say. He wasn't there.

Donna's eyes crinkle in what he thinks is a smile. He returns it, barely aware that tears are now falling down his face, as well.

She'd only seen him cry once before; when Leo had died.

Nancy leans forward. "What did you want to show him?"

"_This_."

"This is it?"

_It's enough_, Josh thinks to himself. He didn't think he could take any more.

"_Hey!_" A voice says loudly, and Donna's chair shutters abruptly, as though kicked.

Josh's heart picks up speed.

Slowly, reluctantly, Donna raises a piece of paper to eye level. The handwriting is rudimentary, but they can all read it.

_Comply or I die._

Josh can't breathe. He's having a panic attack, his chest constricting.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." This is Sam's voice, angry. "This is sick."

"Shut it off, he's gonna flip-" Nathaniel says with alarm, looking at Josh's face.

"Not yet!" Nancy protests, and Nathaniel takes matters into his own hands. The two jostle for the controls.

"I love you." Josh says suddenly, realizing it'll be shut off any moment. "I love you, okay?"

She's nodding frantically, eyes wide and crying. She drops the paper.

"_Hey_!" The voice shouts angrily, and Josh fears what he'll do to her. The sound of the squabble grows behind him.

"Hang in there, okay? For me. Please... Please."

Sam reaches over both of them and slams his hand down on the controls.

The room falls silent. After a moment, Josh stands stiffly.

"Josh-" Sam reaches out a timid hand, but Josh ducks past him. He stops firmly in front of the President.

"Do something."

Matt, overwhelmed, raises his hands helplessly. "Josh, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"_Do something."_

"We can't compromise security like that, Josh, we don't-"

"_I don't care_!" He shouts dangerously. "I don't care, I really don't! Give them what they want, give them _anything_, anything at all, I don't _care_-"

"Josh, I'm not going to do that." Matt says firmly, his face devastated.

Josh lunges for him, grabs his shirt in desperation. A shiver of alarm runs through the room, and both Nathaniel and Nancy attempt to grab him.

"Did you _see_ her?" Josh says quietly, pleadingly. He shakes Matt, manic.

Matt has real fear in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Josh."

And that's when it happens. He draws his arm back in a flash of movement too quick for the others to register, and within a frozen instant of horror, Josh Lyman punches the President of the United States in the face.

**A/N: _I feel like I've always wanted to type that sentence._**

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Grim faced, Sam walks alone down a dark corridor. After a few twists and turns, he stops in front of a door, flanked by two agents.

"Sam Seaborn."

The older agent reaches up to touch his headpiece. "I've got Princeton here, is he cleared?"

"I'm just bringing him food." Sam explains, holding up the styrofoam box and cup in his hands.

The agent nods. "You can go in."

They open the door for him, and he walks into one of the basement conference rooms. He recognizes it vaguely; he thinks this where they'd met for _Sagittarius_.

"Hey, Sam."

Sam makes his way down the short staircase to see that Josh is on the couch, sprawled on his back.

"Hey, Josh."

"Come to see the convict?"

"You're not a convict."

"Yet."

"I brought you some food."

"Not hungry."

"And coffee."

He sits up, looking at his deputy. "They've been telling me to sleep."

Sam shrugs. "Figured you wouldn't be."

Josh smiles. "You're the best."

Seeing as he's elicited a smile, Sam's inclined to agree with this assessment. "I know."

He sits down beside his friend, handing him the cup. Josh chugs it greedily.

"There's also a sandwich."

"Maybe later."

"Okay."

Sam sets the box on the ground, folding his hands in his lap.

Josh gives him a sideways glance. "Alright. How's the President?"

"Fending off multiple doctors and his wife."

"It's that bad?"

"No. He'll probably just have a black eye."

Josh takes a deep breath. "Well, that's enough. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"You're under a lot of stress, Josh."

"I punched The President." He says numbly. "I punched The _President_."

"You did."

"God, Sam, you can't do that. No excuses, you can't fucking _do_ that."

"Didn't seem to stop you."

Josh leans back against the wall, a hand over his eyes. "I'm going to be fired, at the very least. Who knows. Could face charges."

"Neither, actually."

He looks up sharply. "No?"

"The President has made it very clear that you're not to be blamed. For his press appearance, he'll be wearing makeup, and no one's going to mention it again."

"Sam." He takes another deep breath. "People will mention it. This'll get out."

"The only people in that room were people who know what you're going through, and have nothing but sympathy for you. It was a room of our friends, Josh."

Josh grins wryly. "You'd be surprised how many friends you can lose by punching the Commander in Chief of the United States in the face."

"President Santos understands, Josh. He's not going to let this become the story. He's not."

Josh sighs. "Yeah. Okay."

"How's your hand?"

"Fine."

"You sure?"

"It's fine, Sam."

"Okay."

"I'm a mess." He says suddenly.

Sam turns his head to look at him. "Yeah. Pretty much."

"There's something wrong with me, you know. Something fucked up. Remember when I yelled at President Bartlet?"

"You were suffering from PTSD, Josh, you can't blame yourself for that."

"You weren't there for Gaza, but let me tell you, that was a nightmare, too. Right outside the Oval, I had a fit and shouted that we needed to kill everyone, and carpet bomb everything."

"Josh..."

"I don't care what kind of justification there is. They shouldn't let someone like that work in the White House. There's something wrong with me."

"Under pressure-"

"Exactly. What kind of White House staffer is allowed to handle pressure like that? Pressure comes with the job. It _is_ the job. I'm not right for this. I don't have that kind of will. I just crack. Under pressure, I just crack."

"Josh. You're an intelligent guy. But right now, you sound pretty stupid."

"Don't try to make me feel better, Sam. Everything... everything is shit right now."

"And as much as you'd love to just mope in it, I won't let you. I don't care if you screw up sometimes, Josh. How many national disasters have you caused again, even with all of that? That's right, none. None. They keep you here because you do so much more good than you could ever do damage, Josh. Okay?"

He doesn't respond.

"And you're falling apart right now, that's true, but you've got to get yourself together. Prove that you're not the loose cannon. You've got to get back up there, or they'll negotiate with none of your input. For her, you've got to go back. And I know this is the biggest challenge, but you've got to keep your head, Josh."

"What makes you think I can?"

"I know you can. Because you fix things. You rise to challenges."

Josh turns to look at him. "And you think they'd let me anywhere near the sit room again? After that little fiasco? In case you're forgetting-"

"You punched the president? Yeah, well, maybe that was the right wake up call, because he wants you back."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He sent me down to get you."

He lets out a slow breath. "Okay. Okay, I'll come back."

"Good."

Dimly, he hears Donna's voice from a few hours ago.

_"Make sure you're eating... Don't look at me like that, I know you don't eat when you're stressed."_

"But I'm going to eat this sandwich while we walk."

"Good plan."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

**Not sure why I ended with the sandwich.**

**Ugh, I'll work on the next part, sorry for another cliffhanger /:**


End file.
